


of princesses and maps

by roadsider



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Awesome Laura Hale, F/F, Kinda, oblivious snarky girlfriends basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsider/pseuds/roadsider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora pales and takes a small step back. "My brother could—"</p><p>"Your brother," Lydia interrupts, "told me that you've spent a lot of time exploring the surrounding forests and have an excellent knowledge of geography."</p><p>"I— but—," Cora stammers, and Lydia lets her smile melt into a smirk.</p><p>"Excellent. Be ready an hour after sunrise. I'd really rather not waste another day."</p><p> </p><p>Or, a royalty AU in which maps are rather useless, Laura is a knight, and Lydia needs a guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of princesses and maps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rvst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rvst/gifts).



> for the prompts historical/royalty au + showing you around in a random small town. i hope you like it :)
> 
> alternate title: the princess guide. also there are way too many princess bride references in this.
> 
> a million thanks to my lovely manda @[punkhale](http://punkhale.tumblr.com) for the beta, you're beautiful <3

Lydia sets her elbows on the desk, dropping her chin to rest on her hands as she studies the maps in front of her.

They're old, the lines faded and hard to make out on the worn parchment. What's worse, they're grossly outdated. The borders haven't been like that in centuries, and the town she's currently gracing with her presence is barely on the map.

And while the town is hardly a metropolis, it has enough strategic significance to warrant a visit before the upcoming treaty negotiations. Negotiations, which she demanded to take on because she refuses to be one of those lazy, entitled next-in-lines.

Negotiations, which are going to be impossible if the only information she has about local geography is obsolete and completely unusable.

Annoyed, she pushes the maps away and presses her fingertips to her temples.

"Stiles," she calls, looks up wearily as he spills through the door. "Get me one of the Hales."

"Will do," he says with a little salute, already clattering down the stairs by the time the door swings shut behind him.

Lydia sighs and leans back in her chair. She forces her tired mind blank, focuses only on the sounds around her.

She can hear her heart, beating hard from frustration, pounding in her ears. The crackling of the fire in the hearth, giving off just enough heat to stave off the February chill. Somewhere in the yard under her window, a horse whinnies.

And then the sound of two sets of approaching footsteps before a couple of heavy, even knocks.

"Come in," she says, straightening in her seat and smoothing her dress, nodding at Stiles who leads Cora Hale into the room.

The girl is dressed in riding clothes, her chin held high as she meets Lydia's gaze.

"Princess," she greets, eyes gleaming.

"Lady Cora," Lydia says skeptically, looking her up and down, taking in her thick, dark hair loose about her shoulders to her mud-streaked breeches. "I apologize if I interrupted your evening."

Cora shrugs, smirking at Stiles. "I was told the matter was rather urgent."

"Yes, well." Lydia waves a hand dismissively. "I imagine Stiles exaggerated, he tends to do that." 

"Shocking," Cora snorts, and Lydia raises her eyebrows.

"I'm not interested in your evaluation of my attendant," she says, putting just a bit of royal steel in her voice. "I'd like to ask your advice on something else."

After a beat, Cora inclines her head. "As you wish."

Nodding, Lydia pushes herself from her seat, nods at Stiles.

"Thanks, you may leave us," Lydia says.

"See you later, Stilinski," Cora calls after him with a smirk, and Lydia watches with eyebrows raised as Stiles trips over himself in his haste to close the door.

"Lady Cora," Lydia frowns, beckoning her closer to her desk.

Cora steps closer, meets Lydia's eyes before glancing down at the pieces of parchment with eyebrows raised. Lydia watches her for a moment, the candlelight dancing over her soft features, the arch of her eyebrows and the shadows of her lashes. She frowns, turning back to the maps before speaking.

"As you're probably aware, my visit here is not for pleasure, and yet I've been here a week and have nothing to show for it. I need a comprehensive overview of the surrounding lands, with as much detail as possible. And these," she gestures at the desk, "are next to useless."

Cora meets her eyes, and shrugs. "They're the only maps we've got. Maybe back at the capital, in the royal libraries, you'd have more luck. Highness," she tacks on almost as an afterthought. 

Lydia narrows her eyes, taps a finger at the dry parchment. "Surely you're not insinuating that I would neglect to do such preliminary work before making the week-long trip here."

"Of course not," Cora says, casually yanking her fingers through her tangled hair and tying it up behind her. 

"Good." Lydia frowns at the maps, pulling her eyes away from the long line of Cora's neck. "I'll begin charting the township tomorrow morning. I'll need a supply of paper and an educated local to act as a guide." 

She glances up, drumming her fingers on the desk. "And _not_ the Lord Mayor." 

"Oh?" Cora asks, innocent tone belied by the tilt of a smile in her eyes. "Was his advice not to your liking?"

"Lord Mayor Robert is an inappropriate and unhelpful man," Lydia tells her, though she suspects Cora knows that well enough already. "I need someone who knows the area, and is capable of talking about something other than his missing testicle."

Cora snorts before she forces her face sober, and Lydia narrows her eyes. Of all the insolent-- 

"You know what, Lady Cora," she says, leaning back in her chair with a slow smile. "Why don't you accompany us tomorrow? Someone of your background is sure to have lots of helpful information to offer."

Cora pales and takes a small step back. "My brother could--"

"Your brother," Lydia interrupts, "told me that you've spent a lot of time exploring the surrounding forests and have an excellent knowledge of geography." 

"I-- but--," Cora stammers, and Lydia lets her smile melt into a smirk.

"Excellent. Be ready an hour after sunrise. I'd really rather not waste another day."

 

***

 

"Stiles!"

 The snow is crisp under Lydia's boots and the town's silhouette is grey in the pale light of dawn. Lydia's toes are cold, and her page is acting ridiculous.

"Stiles," she hisses again, to no avail, and watches helplessly as Stiles pelts a group of men dressed in Hale livery with snowballs.

"What in seven hells is he doing?" Lydia mutters to Allison as they trudge through the gate, her bodyguard keeping pace just half a step behind her.

"You know I never know the answer to that question," Allison replies cheerfully.

"Something tells me we're better off that way," Isaac chips in from Lydia's other side.

Lydia looks back one last time to see Stiles pouncing onto a bloke with dark hair. She says a colourful curse under her breath and turns back to the road.

"He's young, let him have fun," Cora's voice comes, bright and roguish.

Lydia narrows her eyes at Cora, standing with her hands on her hips a good few paces ahead.

"He's not much younger than I am," she says, speeding her steps to catch up, Allison keeping pace. "Do you see me throwing slush at men I barely know?"

"I would pay good coin to," Cora says, raising an eyebrow. Her gaze slides to Allison for a moment before she looks away.

" _You're_ young, why aren't you playing in the snow?"

"I'm apparently on a very urgent mission to show you all the best spots in town."

Lydia snorts, then blinks at her own response. She settles for rolling her eyes at the girl.

"Besides," Cora says with a sideways look at Lydia. "I'm your age, just two months younger." 

"Is that so? Your immaturity must've thrown me off."

"Oh, lighten up, princess," Cora glances behind them again. "Let him live. At least it's got entertainment value."

 "He's acting like a fool," Lydia huffs. She slips, grabs Allison's arm for support, lets go when she clears a particularly tricky strip of road. "It's unseemly."

 Something darker flashes in Cora's eyes.

 "I wouldn't've guessed you cared much about propriety, highness, what with the entourage you keep."

 "The entourage…" Lydia starts to repeat, confused, just as Allison stiffens beside her. Oh. _Oh_.

"Are you referring to Ser Allison?" Lydia asks and cold settles in her gut.

 When Cora doesn't answer, her temper flashes lightning quick. 

"Ser Allison is not her family," Lydia says, tone icy, glaring up at Cora and and hating the fact that the girl has a few inches on her. "She's a distinguished knight and someone I trust to the fullest extent. I will not tolerate any measure of disrespect towards her."

Cora's nostrils flare but she inclines her head stiffly, steps back without a word. Lydia nods in return. 

"Good. Now let's get this under way, shall we?"

  

***

  

The day is long and arduous, Lydia taking care to note all the major sites within the town. She'd decided to map out the town itself first, with a plan to move onto the surrounding areas in a few days, hoping to have a better sense of the landscape by then.  

She's grateful for her decision to bring along her favourite topographer from the capital, a slender girl called Kira; still technically an apprentice, but more skilled with mapmaking than most of those who call themselves masters. Lydia pays her a visit after dinner, and leaves satisfied with their progress. 

She's reading by the fire, trying to expel the remaining cold that seems to have settled in her from spending the day outside, when a tentative knock comes on the door.

Lydia sets down her tumbler of hot spiced wine, mind immediately alert. Her eyes flick over to her dresser which holds a small collection of daggers, before she calms herself sternly. The chance of an intruder is low, she reasons, what with the Hale's security as well as her own guard. 

Still, her heart is beating a little fast as she pulls her robe tighter around her shift and pads, barefoot, to open the door.

"Cora," she greets, surprise and probably relief colouring her voice.

"Highness," Cora replies, shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

It's silent between them for a moment, and Lydia frowns at the girl.

"It's late." 

"I'm aware," Cora says with a roll of her eyes. They stand there for another second before she raises an eyebrow. "Well? Can I come in?"

"Oh," Lydia says, feels a dull heat light up her cheeks. "Sure, of course."

She steps back, letting her inside.

Cora's wearing cotton breeches and a soft-looking tunic. The fire in the hearth is burning low, casting long shadows around the room and Cora's face, highlighting her cheekbones and the delicate slope of her nose. Lydia pulls her robe tighter around herself. 

Her sleeping quarters are separate from the drawing room, but the door between them is open, and the white sheets of the unmade bed glow stark against the darkened room. Lydia sees Cora's eyes flicker to the bed then away, and the moment feels strangely private. 

In the flickering light, Cora's wide eyes look almost vulnerable, and for a second Lydia forgets to be mad at her. 

It lasts about as long as it takes for Cora to open her mouth.

 "I want to apologize for what I said today. About the Argent guard."

And just like that, all the tense moments from the day, all the badly disguised hostile glances and terse, one-word answers, come rushing back.

Lydia uncrosses her arms and lowers them slowly. "And which of your siblings told you to say this?"

"What?"

"Was it Derek? Or Laura?" Lydia practically spits, stepping closer to the girl and raising her eyebrows at her. "Well?"

Cora doesn't answer. 

Lydia sneers and steps back away. "Thought so."

She picks up her wine and takes a long drink. When she looks back up, Cora's still standing there, jaw hard and eyes furious.

"Exactly what do you want from me, Cora?" Lydia asks her, setting the tumbler down again.

"I wanted," Cora starts through clenched teeth, "to apologize."

"Right. Do me the favour of apologizing to Ser Allison herself, then."

She turns around and shrugs off her robe, expecting Cora to have stormed out, but when turns back, the girl still hasn't budged.

" _Yes_ , Lady Cora?"

"It's unfair of you, you know," Cora says, anger seething under her civil tone. "It's unfair of you to bring her here, after what her family has done to my brother."

Lydia draws in a deep breath, lets it out, and sets her shoulders.

"I'm very sorry about what happened with Derek. What Katherine Argent did is unacceptable, and I feel deeply for your brother. However," Lydia says, eyes flashing. "Katherine is not Allison, and her actions are not Allison's. We all have family members who don't reflect the best on us, don't we?"

Cora's lips thin.

"And let me make something perfectly clear," Lydia says, stepping right up into Cora's space. "Questioning my authority with regards to my personnel is not going to be well received under any circumstance."

She's standing almost nose-to-nose with her, eyes hard and mouth set. The air between them is hot with their shared breaths, and Lydia feels like her skin is on fire. After a handful of tense moments, Cora deflates.

"Good," Lydia says, stepping away before her cheeks start to warm. "Now leave, before I call Isaac and have you removed." 

With one last angry glance, Cora turns on her heel and stalks out. 

"Oh," Lydia calls after her. "And have Laura join me tomorrow instead."

  

***

 

"Sooooooo," Laura starts, leaning over in her saddle. She's got a bright green wool cap perched on her head and it slides to the side precariously. "So. What did Cora do?"

Lydia looks at her, feels her grip on the reins tighten. "She didn't--" 

"She did," Laura says, and there's a smile in her eyes. "I can tell 'cause she's spent the entire morning sulking in the stables."

Lydia frowns, looks away from Laura to take in the landscape. The hills to the east of the town are important, the river to the northwest could be used to… She sighs.

"Cora came by to apologize last night," she tells Laura finally, after a cursory glance confirms that Allison, Isaac, and Kira are a good distance behind them. "After a day of being exceptionally rude to both myself and my guard." 

"Oh, Cora," Laura sighs, leaning back in her saddle so suddenly that Lydia's mare startles. "Oh, no."

"Yes, well," Lydia says awkwardly, twisting the reins in her gloved hands. The crisp air stings her cheeks as they ride.

"I'm not making excuses for her," Laura says after a while, pursing her lips. "I'm really not. But I want you to know that she didn't do it out of spite. She's always been very protective of Derek. Which is weird, cause she's the youngest, but…"

Laura trails off and shrugs.  

Lydia huffs, her breath puffing a cloud into the air. "She's not the only one who's allowed to be protective."

Laura stays silent, so Lydia continues.

"I'm aware that sounds petulant, but it's true. Allison is like a sister to me. And Cora was disrespectful not only towards her, but towards me as well." Lydia pauses. "Apologies, Ser, I shouldn't be complaining to you, especially not about this."

"Don't _Ser_ me," Laura snorts.

"You're a knight--"

"Yeah, whatever, we've known each other at court for years. You can complain to me about Deaton's tax laws and you can complain to me about my bonehead sister."

A laugh bubbles out of Lydia, then a sigh. "She's just so… tactless, sometimes." 

"She is," Laura agrees without hesitation. "But that's one of the things you like about her, right?" 

"That's," Lydia starts, blinks. Pulls on the reins hard. "What?" 

"Oh," Laura says, easing her gelding to a stop as well. "I guess we don't have to talk about that, if you don't want to. You're our guest, after all, your comfort and all that, etcetera, etcetera."

"What in the heavens are you talking about?"

"I mean, you've barely seen her since the first time you two met three years ago, but you seem to get along pretty darn well." 

"Get along?" Lydia asks, incredulous. She tugs a glove off and strokes a hand through her mare's soft mane. "All we do is argue."

"Thin line, though, right?" Laura asks with a wink.

"What are you talking about," Lydia says again, voice flat. 

"Oh, come on."

"I have no idea what you mean." 

Laura laughs, then smirks in a way that is much too reminiscent of Cora, and spurs her gelding to a trot.

"Whatever you say, _princess_."

 

***

 

Lydia closes her eyes and exhales harshly through her nose.  

She knocks once, twice, and when there's no answer she tries the door. 

It opens smoothly and Cora jumps up from where she'd been eating on the sofa. Her eyes are wide and her hair is messy around her shoulders, and she's wearing only a ratty nightshirt.

"Morning," Lydia says, eyes raking down Cora's body before she can snap them back to her eyes.

Cora just raises eyebrows at her.

And Lydia chickens out. 

"Have you seen Stiles? I haven't been able to find him since last night and I figured he might be here." 

Cora deflates, sinks back onto the sofa. "Try the smithy." 

That catches her off guard. "He's with the blacksmith?" 

"Not the blacksmith. His apprentice Scott, probably, or my brother Derek."

Lydia frowns. "Huh."

"Okay," Cora says with a roll of her eyes. "Can I get back to my breakfast now?"

Lydia gestures a go ahead and sits at the opposite end of the sofa, back straight, lips tight. Cora stares at her for a moment before shrugging and going back to her meal. She splays her legs out in front of her, her knees knocking against Lydia's.

Eventually Lydia has to break the silence.

"I... want to apologize." 

"Oh really?" Cora asks around a mouthful of toast. "Which of _your_ siblings told you to?" 

Lydia gives her a flat look. "You're not funny."

"You love it, princess."

"I assure you, I do not."

"You're lying," Cora says, sitting up with a smirk, her thigh warm against Lydia's. "You have a tell." 

"Do I?" Lydia asks, feels her heartbeat in her ears. "And what is it?"

Cora hums, leans so close that their noses brush. "Isn't it obvious?"

Lydia can only see the rich depth of Cora's eyes, the curve of her cheek, the soft swell of her lips. And then her eyes slip shut and she tastes skin and salt and strawberry jam, the sweet sting of Cora's teeth biting into her mouth and the searing heat of her tongue.

When Cora pulls away she's got red-bitten lips and a lazy smirk.

"I don't know about you, but that seemed pretty obvious to me."

"Shut up," Lydia says, tangling her fingers in Cora's silky-thick hair. "Just shut up." 

"As you wish."

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3
> 
> (i'm on [tumblr](http://pegcartr.tumblr.com))


End file.
